


Pretty

by JustSimpleThings



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fetish, Gay Bar, Geralt of Rivia loves it up the ass pass it on, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Self-Esteem Issues, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Needs a Hug, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Good Friend Eskel, Good Friend Lambert, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Judo Instructor Geralt, Kink Exploration, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Pansexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Supportive Jaskier | Dandelion, The Witcher Kink Meme, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, body image issues, no beta we die like witchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23874106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSimpleThings/pseuds/JustSimpleThings
Summary: Geralt discovers that he has a fetish for wearing women's lingerie: pretty, lacy things.He is ashamed of it, but he comes to accept it as one of his quirks - so he thinks it's okay, as long asno oneknows about it...--Modern AU. (No magic or Witcher powers in this story, they are all just ordinary people.)Warning: this story contains allusions to past child abuse/neglect and homophobia. And lots of Angst!NOW WITH BONUS FANART AT THE END! Courtesy of the wonderful Taiyou Rae ❤This story is a Fill for a prompt at the Witcher Kink Meme:https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=385197#cmt385197
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 55
Kudos: 604
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette, Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth), Witcher Kinkmeme Collection, Witcher Netflix Kinkmeme, Witcher Smut





	1. Chapter 1

Where it had come from, Geralt had no idea.

He hadn’t discovered it until quite late in his life.

* * *

Was it during his years in the military, when he would get sneak-peaks of Sports Illustrated magazine? He found himself looking at a tall muscular, blonde woman who was wearing a delicate, lacy light blue bra with matching panties, stockings and suspenders.

Geralt could still recall what he felt when he saw that model: he was enraptured. It was striking how even an athletic, lean, wiry frame devoid of any curves could be feminised by wearing the _right_ garments.

They didn’t look out of place on her – she looked stunning! Seductive, feminine – sexy.

He stole that page, and all his mates had assumed that he did so because he had the hots for the model. He didn’t correct their assumptions.

* * *

Geralt remembered wanting to play with dolls during his childhood, because most of his friends – the kids living in their neighbourhood, who happened to be around Geralt’s age – were girls and they got to play with dolls and have tea parties with them.

Also, little girls got called ‘pretty’ and they could get sweeties from old people if they asked them nicely. Or if they sang in their sweet, bird-like voices.

Geralt had tried those tricks too, but he never had any luck; nobody complimented him or gave him candy. He wasn’t ‘cute’.

But at least, he could follow the girls and get their leftover sweets if they got too many – he tried to tell himself that that was enough.

* * *

He had made the mistake of asking his mom if he could get a doll of his own, because Charlotte was a meanie and she wouldn’t lend him any from her collection, even though she owned numerous Barbies, Ken dolls – the whole shebang.

She had been mortified, and she told him in no uncertain terms that little boys _did not_ play with dolls: only girls could.

She must have told about the incident to Geralt’s dad, because when he got home, he got a huge thrashing and his dad kept yelling at him throughout it, saying that he wouldn’t allow his son to „grow up to be a sissy” and he’d sooner see him dead than see him „turn into a fag”.

He had reeked of alcohol.

* * *

Geralt was six years old – he hadn’t even known what those words meant. But he remembered sobbing and promising his dad that _he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t_ … to no avail. The blows didn’t relent until his dad had tired himself out. And then he just sneered at him and left him shaking and crying on the ground.

Geralt had made a promise to himself in that moment that he would grow up to be strong and powerful – so no one could ever beat him like his dad did.

He was always good at sports – he turned his attention towards martial arts, and both of his parents had been relieved. He didn’t receive any grief from them after that. He won trophy after trophy.

Enrolling in the military seemed like the natural thing to do after he’d graduated from high school.

He completed the training, but he only saw live action once – that was when he realised that being in the military wasn’t his calling afterall. He saw the devastation of war: the senseless killing, the countless casualties: women, children, civilians... Killed by their side or by their own. What did it matter? He refused to take part in it.

He was let go without much fuss. On the paperwork, it said "Other Than Honourable" discharge.

He had informed this parents, and they never contacted him again after that. Geralt didn’t bother either.

* * *

Many years passed and he recovered from the ‘failure’. He decided to become a judo instructor. He already had his black belt anyway; he just needed to do some additional exams and he was good to go.

He was planning to teach adults only, but he quickly realised that wasn’t enough to pay the bills, and there was a lot of interest for kids’ judo classes in his area, so he ended up teaching children aged five to fifteen as well.

Surprisingly, he found that he liked it.

* * *

He had met his first wife, Yennefer like that. She brought her kid, Ciri, to Geralt’s classes. They hit it off quickly, it was an instant connection for both of them. They got married six months later.

Then got divorced in another six months’ time.

The months leading up to the divorce had been ugly, but as soon as it had become official, it was like a weight had been lifted off their shoulders; they were able to be civil around each other again.

Yen had even allowed Ciri to resume attending Geralt's judo classes. Soon enough, they had a custody arrangement sorted; Ciri would stay with Geralt every second weekend, plus anytime if Yen needed a babysitter, provided Geralt could make it.

And Geralt had been happy.

* * *

Perhaps it had happened during those final few months of his marriage to Yennefer. They had been getting increasingly desperate, trying to find a way to revive that ‘spark’ between the two of them – and Yennefer seemed to think that sex would be the solution.

Specifically, increasingly _adventurous_ sex. One day, when Geralt got home Yennefer greeted him on the couch, wearing nothing but a set of deep purple lingerie, accentuated with a black garter belt and black thigh-high stockings carefully clipped onto the garter's straps.

She looked… almost demure as she had glanced up at Geralt.

“Do you like it?” She asked, sounding unsure – a rare thing for her. “I thought I’d try something different… It was a hassle to put it on, but… what do you think?”

Geralt could only nod. He devoured her, and they made passionate love for hours upon hours.

It didn’t change the fact that they didn’t work as a couple, though.

* * *

Geralt vowed never to let anyone in again, lest he got hurt. It wasn’t hard to do: he was determined never to get married again.

He didn’t go on dates. It was easy enough.

* * *

A few years after the divorce, when Geralt had largely processed the emotional trauma of his failed marriage, his sex drive came back.

It was as if fate had decided to intervene. He was tidying his room as usual, and he decided to finally clean up under his bed because a huge cloud of dust had emanated from under there when he pulled one of his storage boxes out.

He had only just pulled the second box out when he saw _it:_ the Sport Illustrated magazine picture he had stolen from one of his mates ages ago.

The page was crinkled and slightly faded, but it still made Geralt’s breath stop. He trailed his fingers over the lean, sporty figure of the woman; it was in stark contrast with the lushness of the lingerie set she was wearing. He felt his cock give an interested twitch when he imagined what it may feel like if _he_ was the one wearing it...

He couldn’t resist the urge- he went to his wardrobe mirror, and held up the picture next to himself. It felt utterly ridiculous… He could hear his father’s words _“I won’t let my boy become a sissy, Sharon!”…_

The arousal ebbed away.

 _“Fuck…_ Fuck you!” Geralt murmured, closing his eyes and looking away from his reflection, but he took himself in hand and he glanced at the model in the beautiful lingerie set again. Instead of imagining himself in it, he thought about how the material would feel like under his fingers.

He imagined holding the soft lace trimmings – running them between his fingers… running them over his cock…

“Mmmh…” He sighed in pleasure.

Oh yes, this was _definitely_ working. He stumbled back to his bed and laid down on it. He had a wild thought and he decided to go with it.

There was a silk scarf Yen had left at his place ages ago. Geralt had offered to return it to her numerous times, but she didn’t want it – she told him to throw it away, to put it in the trash or give it to charity, she didn't care.

Geralt couldn’t do that, so he had kept the scarf as a memento – as a reminder of their shared past.

Now though… he was viewing it in a new light. It felt wrong and dirty, but… well – Yen didn’t want the scarf, she had told him so in no uncertain terms… So what was the harm in doing as he pleased with it?

It was shockingly easy to imagine that the scarf _wasn’t_ a scarf… That it was a pair of silk panties… It even had the colour Geralt had always liked to imagine on himself: it was baby blue… pretty. Dainty. Feminine…

Geralt played with it as he stroked his cock with his other hand. He ran the material down his own body – he was shocked to note how good the silky material felt against his peaked nipples… How it felt against his face – his stubble catching on it… Against the side of his neck…

And then he just couldn’t resist it anymore – he had to know…

He draped the piece of fabric very carefully over his cock. He imagined that it was a pair of underwear and he was wearing it… Wearing it around his apartment casually… Wearing it out under his jeans – _no one would need to know!_ –... It could be his secret and he could feel how soft it was, pressing against him, hugging his cock and his balls, rubbing against them tightly, too tightly, because it wasn’t designed to accommodate a _man’s_ body… But Geralt would wear it and maybe he would even buy a matching set: stockings, garters, a lacy bra or a corset perhaps…

His orgasm slammed into him, wrecking his body and leaving him breathless. He laid there for a long time afterwards.

Fuck. That was… spectacular.

* * *

A few weeks later found him going down to the postbox, looking around nervously. The FedEx update had said his package would be delivered today, but it was 3 pm already and still it hadn’t arrived… He would need to go to work soon, to do the evening classes… He had been hoping that he could collect the parcel discretely before rush-hour hit and people may notice that he had received a package… What if there would be a _logo_ on it? He guessed he could say it was for a girlfriend, but still…

He had to leave for work. By the time he got home it was 9 pm and the package was there: a flimsy plastic bag (sealed of course)… but oh for fuck’s sake it was _pink_ and it had _rainbow_ _unicorns_ all over it _and_ the brand name: 'Pretty Little Thing' printed on it with _huge letters_ …

Geralt was blushing furiously as he grabbed the bag and headed up to his apartment. He prayed none of his neighbours would have noticed that it had been there, waiting for him to collect it…

But whatever. It couldn’t be helped now.

He was almost breathless as he opened the package.

And there it was: a beautiful powder [blue lacy satin lingerie set](https://i.pinimg.com/474x/f8/2c/ab/f82cab5e960b2bf6ded47c979c9c8d6f--cute-lingerie-wedding-lingerie.jpg) with a [matching dressing gown](https://i.etsystatic.com/17180052/r/il/652b4c/1845043870/il_570xN.1845043870_j4fy.jpg). There were other items in there as well, which were wrapped separately, but he didn’t even care, he just grabbed the blue set. He was aching to find out whether it would fit him.

Thankfully, the material was quite elastic, so it slipped onto his body easily – despite his broad, muscular shoulders… (It had also helped that he bought quite a large size, to be safe.) The see-through lacy middle of the top sat nicely over his chest, and the thong fit him perfectly – well, as perfectly as it could bearing in mind that there was _no room_ for his cock or his balls… But he managed to squeeze them in.

He grabbed the dressing gown and he draped it over himself and then - with a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through him - he chanced a look in the mirror for the first time.

He was shocked by what he saw.

He had expected to dislike what he saw… he expected to dislike the way the pretty lacy things would look on him… (He would have held onto them anyway, but he may not have worn them again if that was the case).

But no… he liked it.

His breath hitched at the sight of the tight material keeping his pecs in a cage… Even though his body still looked big and burly as always… Actually, he found that he quite _liked_ the way the short dressing gown he was wearing was accentuating his legs. He turned around to have a better look, and he noted that if he leant forward, his bottom would be exposed by the gown… which made him flush with embarrassment… It looked so slutty, and yet pretty at the same time…

He couldn’t resist pinching one of his nipples, and then palming himself through the satin material of the panties – and oh fuck, it was heavenly!

Emboldened, he glanced at his reflection again, focusing his eyes on the lingerie’s details: noting how the colour was making his skin glow, and how it contrasted with his light blonde hair beautifully. Belatedly, he remembered that his hair was still in a half-pony, so he grabbed the hair-tie and let it down on a whim. And wow, that really completed the picture. He looked… decidedly more feminine than he ever had in his life: with his lacy undies and his long hair cascading down on his shoulders…

He felt pretty. _He was pretty._

He brought himself to completion multiple times that evening, fascinated by the way the fabric glistened and bunched when he would arch his back in the throes of pleasure…

Afterwards he laid there in a satisfied puddle, hugging himself in the soft silky fabric of his dressing gown – feeling blissed out and sated. It became something of a weekly- turned bi-weekly ritual to have these 'lingerie evenings' as he secretly called them in his mind.

His lingerie collection grew and grew – and Geralt became less and less embarrassed about it. There was no one around to judge him anyway.

* * *

He had figured it out that he was bisexual a long-long time ago. Before he had enlisted himself into the military even.

It didn’t seem important: what was the point of trying to find a man if it was so much easier to be with a woman? Women seemed to like him, and Geralt liked them. He didn’t need to hide his relationships this way; he didn’t have to worry about being discriminated against.

It was safe.

* * *

And yet, he found himself tumbling into bed with a guy or two after he and Yen had separated. He told himself it was because he was looking for something different.

Other women reminded him of Yen too much: guys were safer.

And yeah, okay, maybe there was something new and _exciting_ about learning about this part of himself; he enjoyed discovering his own body and his partner’s bodies under this new light.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel dirty the morning after; each time he slept with a man.

He tried to remind himself that sex was just sex; of course it would feel good with any partner; regardless of their gender.

It didn’t _mean_ anything.

* * *

He took some women home as well, just to make sure that he still 'had it'. He wasn’t broken (or bent).

He was relieved to find that it was okay: he was still attracted to women as well.

* * *

And yet, he never sought out women after that. He started going to gay bars and clubs instead.

* * *

Men were easier to deal with, arguably: there was less pointless flirting, and they usually cut to the chase: “ _Your place or mine?_ ”, _“Are you a top or bottom?_ ”, “ _Handjobs or blowjobs?_ ”.

Geralt always left satisfied, if a bit empty afterwards. But the “dirty” feeling lessened the more often he did it. He had started to come to terms with it that he _wasn’t_ straight.

He had made some gays friends; Eskel and Lambert had helped convince him that being gay or bi wasn’t black and white, and it wasn't something to be ashamed about.

Eskel was one of the manliest guys Geralt had ever met… And yet the guy was absolutely 100% gay. Tits repulsed him, he felt queasy at the thought of looking at vaginas…

That made Geralt feel a little better. He used to think that he had to be flamboyant if he wanted to be accepted as anything but straight: but that wasn’t the case. Eskel, Lambert and Geralt treated their local gay bar as if it was just an ordinary bar: they drank beers, watched sports on TV and they talked about work and whatnot.

* * *

Ciri was stepping into puberty. She had just turned thirteen a few weeks ago.

That weekend, when she came over, she surprised Geralt by looking at him very seriously during dinner.

“Dad –," She said. "I’ve noticed that you’ve been looking happier lately. Whatever has changed… I wanted you to know that I’m happy for you.”

Geralt didn’t know what to say, so he just muttered an awkward _“thanks”_ and changed the subject. Ciri had smirked knowingly.

The little minx knew she was onto something.


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt found himself feeling more and more relaxed in Eskel’s and Lambert’s company. They had also introduced him to another one of their mutual friends, a guy called Coën (Geralt was surprised to learn that Coën was straight but he still came to this bar to hang out with his friends more often than not because there were better sports channels on TV here, and the wine selection was great, apparently – Geralt wouldn’t know, he never drank anything but his beloved Budweiser).

* * *

A few weeks later, Coën brought his cousin along – some kid in his mid-twenties who had just completed a Masters’ degree in International Relations but now had decided to become a singer in a folk-rock band instead of using his degree ( _Millennials_ ).

“Hi!” The guy said by way of introduction. “My name is Jaskier, and I’ve just moved here from the other end of the country. Coën is my cousin, but I’ve always viewed him more as a funny uncle than anything – with his endless litany of “good advice” and his wizened old age…” Jaskier said, sending a cheeky wink Coën’s way.

Eskel and Lambert laughed unabashedly, and even Coën was torn between laughing and protesting.

“So, let me guess,” Jaskier said, regarding them mock-seriously. “Badass facial scar – you must be Eskel, right?” He asked, pointing at Eskel, who nodded with a self-satisfied smirk. “And you are best dressed, so you must be Lambert, the tailor?” Lambert nodded in confirmation, and then Jaskier’s eyes were on Geralt. “And pale blond hair and the trademark “strong and silent” demeanour - you must be the judo instructor – Geralt of Rivia!”

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed in confirmation, feeling mildly amused by the young man’s comments.

“Wow, Coën! You didn’t say you told your cousin all about us before coming here! I trust you said only good things, correct?” Lambert asked, squinting at Coën.

“As if I’d dare say anything else…” Coën retorted holding his hands up in defense.

Jaskier grinned, looking at Lambert. “He said you were a ‘bit of a slut’.”

Coën paled. _“Jaskier!!!”_

Lambert laughed, clearly not offended by the comment. “Well, anyone’s a slut compared to _him_ , your cousin’s a damn monk!”

“He calls me a slut as well,” Jaskier added in a conversational tone. Lambert’s eyes glinted.

“Oh, so you’re one of my kind! We’ll get along splendidly!”

Lambert took over for a while after that, seeming to have decided to chaperone Jaskier for the rest of the night. He took him to the bar to get some drinks, explaining what specials were on and introducing him to the bar staff (it was Triss behind the tap that night, a very friendly gal who often shared some banter and gossip with their little group).

“Are you all right?” Eskel asked looking at Geralt, once the other two were gone. “You’ve been quiet tonight. More so than usual.”

Geralt shrugged. “Yeah, I’m fine, just… not much to say.”

To his dismay, Eskel smirked knowingly.

“You’re feeling shy, aren’t you? Because of the new kid?”

Geralt didn’t deign that with a reply, taking a sip from his beer instead. Coën was obviously engrossed in his phone, so he wasn’t listening to them – so he couldn’t use him as a reprieve from Eskel, sadly.

“Which team to do you reckon Jaskier’s on? Gay, straight, bi?” Eskel asked him, looking over at the bar where Lambert and the younger man were sat talking with Triss animatedly.

“I have no idea. Why don’t you ask him if you wanna find out?” Geralt shot back, with a touch more irritation than was warranted perhaps.

Eskel just smirked even wider as he replied: “Perhaps I will.”

And the fucker had the _nerve_ to stand up from their table and walk over to the other two, leaving Geralt with Coën – who had finally looked up from his phone, frowning.

“I’m sorry, my mother had texted me… where’d Eskel go--? Oh, there he is!”

Geralt guessed he should use the situation to his advantage, so he tried to appear casual as he took another sip from his beer.

“So, Jaskier… Is he living at yours right now?” Geralt asked. “That’s very generous of you.”

Coën nodded. “Yeah, I offered him my couch until he finds a place of his own. He is chipping in with the rent, which is very nice of him.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. “Aren’t you worried you’re gonna find a girl on your couch next to him one of these mornings? Or a guy perhaps?”

Geralt hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he was fishing for information here.

If Coën had caught on, he did not show any sign of that, as he shrugged, smiling jovially.

“Well, I guess that may happen eventually! I’d have no right to judge him to be fair. I’ve done my share of sleeping around back in the day…”

 _Shit_ \-- that wasn’t the reply Geralt was hoping for.

He tried again.

“What was Jaskier again anyway? Gay? Straight?” He asked, trying to appear casual.

Thankfully Coën was totally oblivious to Geralt’s motives, and he replied without hesitation:

“He said he is pan, actually.”

Geralt almost choked on his beer.

“Pan--? What the hell does that mean?!” He asked, feeling genuinely curious now.

Coën shrugged. “I dunno, he gave me a lengthy explanation about it the other day, but I’ve forgotten all about it now – why don’t you ask him?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

“I might.” Geralt replied non-committally, as he changed the subject to football – a topic he and Coën had a shared interest in.

Later in the evening, while Geralt was getting his next beer, he had two minutes to himself, so he grabbed his phone and typed the word ‘pansexual’ into Google search – and he felt relieved that pansexual wasn’t a fancy new way of saying ‘asexual’ or ‘straight’.

But yeah, no: based on the definition, Jaskier was definitely into men.

Which was good - Geralt had a chance then.

* * *

The night wasn’t going well. Eskel and Lambert were all over Jaskier, and they had dragged the younger man off to the dance floor, _of all places!_

Geralt hated dancing with a passion, so he sat alone and watched the three of them, nursing his beer on his own (Coën had an important meeting at work the next morning, so he had said his goodbyes and left some time ago).

Watching Jaskier dancing between Eskel and Lambert, Geralt felt stupid about having Google-d the term ‘pansexual’ earlier… Because, fuck, the guy was obviously _not straight_. Very-very not-straight if his dance moves were anything to go by. He was also quite flexible and had a great sense for rhythm (well, that much was to be expected, he was supposed to be a musician after all).

And fuck, he looked so confident, so at ease around Eskel and Lambert… as if he had known them forever.

They seemed to be having a great time.

It was devastating to watch.

Geralt was beginning to debate if he should go home and cut his losses. He could do with catching some shut-eye… Or a sad wank, maybe --

“Hey,” A soft, breathless voice called out to him from across the table.

Geralt was surprised to see a flushed, slightly dishevelled Jaskier standing there. The musician plopped himself down onto his earlier seat unceremoniously.

“Oh, wow, I’m loving this place already!” He boasted. “They have all the best songs, the good retro stuff – I could dance to it all night! I see you’re not big on dancing though.” Jaskier said, _winking_ at him? Or maybe that was just a trick of the light, it was hard to tell in the near-darkness.

Geralt shrugged.

“You don’t say much, do you?” Jaskier said, sounding amused.

“It’s the first rule of being a judo master.” Geralt said, trying his best to keep a straight face.

Jaskier was eyeing him with open curiosity now.

“Is it? What, are you guys not allowed to talk – ? Oh fuck you!!!” Jaskier yelled and shoved at Geralt’s shoulder gently when he realised, he’d been had. “I see you’re just as bad as the other two!”

Geralt smirked. “Well, I’d argue I’m worse…”

"Your friends agree with you!” Jaskier shot back without missing a beat. He cocked his head towards Eskel and Lambert who were still out on the floor, jumping around to some God awful pop song. “They’ve warned me to be careful – because you’re a right Casanova, conquering and breaking hearts!”

Geralt frowned. That sounded like an awful prank even coming from Eskel and Lambert…

Suddenly, Jaskier was laughing and waving his hands reassuringly. “Oh, relax, _relax!_ I was just pulling your leg! They told no such thing!”

Geralt released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He still felt a bit tense though.

“So what _did_ they say about me then?” He asked, deciding that he’d rather know, so he can correct the misinformation if necessary. Eskel and Lambert were both huge tattle-tale’s – Geralt was sure they couldn’t resist this opportunity to poke fun at him… They loved cock-blocking him whenever they got the chance.

“Do you promise not to get mad at them if I tell you?” Jaskier asked, levelling Geralt with a strangely solemn look. “I think they meant well, so I’d hate to see them get in trouble for it…”

“Fine, I promise. _What did they say?”_ Geralt asked again, feeling impatient now. He realised he was squeezing his beer bottle way harder than it was necessary so he relaxed his grip a little.

“They told me you’re divorced – I knew that already – and they said the divorce hurt you badly and you’re slow to warm up to people, but once you do, you “love fiercely and deeply” – I believe those were their words…” Jaskier said nonchalantly.

“Fuck…” Geralt muttered, burying his face in his hand.

“Oh, I thought it was rather sweet!” The other man said, smirking. He coughed and then continued in a lower voice, sounding somewhat nervous. “And erm, they may have also suggested that umm – that you’d deserve to meet someone who loves you back - _finally_ \-- And that I look like a ‘nice guy’, and if I want to pursue you, I should probably go sit with you because you are _clearly_ interested in me but you don’t know how to dance, so you are ‘brooding’ in the corner at the moment… So,” Jaskier said, clearing his throat and smiling at Geralt. “Here I am.”

“I am going to murder them.” Geralt said in a deadpan voice, eyes still fixed on the table in front of him.

Jaskier huffed. “Hmm, but… were they wrong?” He asked, a touch of uncertainty evident in his tone.

Geralt replied after a second’s hesitation.

“I know how to dance. I just hate it with a passion.”

Jaskier broke down laughing.

“God, Geralt, I’ve been waiting for you to approach me _all night!_ Do you know you’re terrible at--?”

Geralt never found out what he was ‘terrible at’ because he leant in and silenced Jaskier with a gentle kiss. It was barely more than a careful brush of lips, really, but it still made Geralt shiver as he felt the other man’s unique scent and taste for the first time.

“Is this okay?” He murmured quietly. To his surprise, Jaskier nodded vehemently and pulled him back into a much deeper kiss.

Geralt didn’t protest.

* * *

They declared they were dating officially two weeks later.

* * *

Jaskier moved in with Geralt a month after that.

* * *

In preparation for Jaskier’s move-in, Geralt had carefully emptied over half of his wardrobe and chest-of-drawers. It wasn’t hard to do; he didn’t have much stuff anyway. He was torn about where he should put his lingerie collection though.

He definitely had a “collection” now - he had about eight full lingerie sets, a few babydolls, two dressing gowns and too many stockings and garters to count. His latest acquisition had been a corset with matching thongs – he was yet to wear those because with dating Jaskier, Geralt was much busier nowadays than he had ever used to be, so the opportunity to try them on hadn’t presented itself yet – he wasn’t worried about it though, he was sure he would find the time to do so eventually…

After some more deliberation, he decided to hide his collection in a brand-new storage box under his bed. It wasn’t an original solution, but it would do for now.

* * *

Jaskier moved in without any issues. The two of them settled into living together fairly easily, although Geralt had been worried that he might find Jaskier’s presence grating at the start – it had quickly turned out that his worries had been unfounded, because Jaskier spent a surprising amount of time away from home; going to auditions, recordings, gala openings, gigs, and all that… So they didn’t have much time to get on each other’s nerves, really.

Geralt realised one day that he could no longer imagine living without Jaskier around – it was a scary thought, but he pushed it down and resolved to enjoy their relationship while it lasted – everything was going well for now after all.

* * *

Geralt had sort of created a new routine; he would wear some of his lingerie once a week, on Monday mornings, when Jaskier was at his band practice session.

On Monday evenings, sex with Jaskier was exceptionally great – and Geralt knew why - but that was his little secret to keep.

* * *

They’ve been together for a little over a year now – it was all going great – too great; it lulled Geralt into a false sense of security and he got careless.

He knew something was wrong when he got home from his afternoon judo classes one Tuesday evening, and he found Jaskier bristling, sitting curled up on the couch.

“Hey, I’m home!” Geralt called out, not realising that anything was amiss.

“Hello to you too.” Jaskier drawled, sounding… angry? Hurt? “I did laundry today.”

“Oh, good. Thank you.” Geralt said, turning and heading towards the kitchen to grab some snacks for himself – he was always starving after teaching long classes on a Tuesday.

Surprisingly, Jaskier didn’t get up from the couch, so Geralt went back to join him after he had eaten. He decided to tread carefully because he could still feel that something was wrong – perhaps Jaskier’s band had been denied a contract? Maybe one of their gigs was cancelled? That must be it.

“Is everything okay?” Geralt asked softly, reaching out a hand to put it over his boyfriend’s shoulders, but Jaskier evaded him, moving further away on the couch.

“Don’t touch me, please!” He snapped.

Geralt’s eyes widened. “Jaskier…”

He _really_ looked at his boyfriend and he realised that Jaskier had obviously been crying: his face was still puffy and red. And he looked like he had not combed his hair today – which wasn’t his style at all…

Suddenly, Jaskier glared at him with a look full of sadness and hurt.

“I did the laundry today… and – and… I found this.” He said, holding up a piece of baby blue satin. It was the thong from Geralt’s favourite lingerie set – his very first one.

 _Shit_ – he had forgotten to wash that one separately! He must have thrown it into the hamper – along with his ordinary everyday clothes - by accident…

“Care to explain?” Jaskier asked sharply. “How long had you been cheating on me?”

To Geralt’s mortification, his boyfriend began to cry, stifling soft, broken sobs. Geralt shook his head.

“It’s- It’s not what it looks like—!” He said desperately.

Jaskier gave him an accusing look.

“Oh, spare me your excuses! I had found another pair in the laundry just two months ago, remember?!! And you had said it was Yen’s and that you were returning it…”

 _Fuck,_ yeah, of course Geralt remembered that. It was a close call.

Jaskier scoffed.

“Well, I called Yen today – and she said she had never owned any panties in size ‘L’. I described it to her but she said it isn’t hers… Furthermore, she also helped clear up that the previous pair wasn’t hers _either._ ”

Oh crap… This wasn’t looking good.

Jaskier was looking at him with a sad expression on his face.

“Aren’t you gonna defend yourself? Or say something - at least?”

“I’m sorry…” Geralt said, feeling sick to his stomach. “It isn’t… it isn’t what it looks like.”

To his horror, Jaskier looked at him impassively, and at hearing Geralt’s words, he just bit his lips and sighed.

“I’ve packed some of my things… Don’t worry, I’m not leaving permanently… for now. But I need some time away, to process… Coën is between tenants, so he has offered his spare bedroom to me. I’ll be staying with him, for now…”

And that was when Geralt noticed the heavy duffel bag sitting next to Jaskier on the floor – the same one he had moved in with… And it was packed.

_Fuck, fuck!_

Geralt panicked.

“They’re mine!” He ground out between clenched teeth, voice barely above a whisper.

Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks, looking at Geralt with a befuddled expression.

“What? What are y--?”

Geralt looked up at him, his jaw set in a tight line.

“I said _they are mine_ – both of them. I lied, yes, it isn’t Yen’s, but Jaskier, I swear--!” He said, looking into Jaskier’s eyes pleadingly. “I am not cheating on you. Not with a woman, not with a man… I swear! I’m not… Please, believe me!” He begged, feeling truly frantic now.

Something seemed to shift in Jaskier, although he still looked unsure, but he set the duffle bag down which was… good.

He sat back next to Geralt, carding nimble fingers through his hair.

To his mortification, Geralt could feel tears springing to his eyes at the gentle touch…

Jaskier took a deep breath.

“Okay, Geralt… let’s say I believe you… now, humour me – if the panties – the _women’s_ panties – I found are _truly_ yours… Pray tell, why didn’t you tell _your boyfriend of a year_ that… that you owned them?” He asked, looking at Geralt with a crestfallen expression. “And that… What? That you use them as… masturbatory material?” Jaskier said, sounding raw – hurt. “Are they from past girlfriends? Souvenirs of old conquests?”

Geralt shook his head.

“No – no, I’ve told you- I bought them for myself. No one else had ever worn them… just me, only me.”

“Then why did you keep it a secret, hmm?” Jaskier asked, irritation clear in his voice.

Geralt felt as if he’d been slapped. He felt those treacherous tears gather in his eyes again, and this time, he couldn’t stop them.

_Fuck, he was pathetic. He had hurt Jaskier… he had kept a part of his life secret from him… and fuck, now what if Jaskier is **disgusted** by his weird fetish? Or what if he leaves because Geralt **broke his trust?**_

He hadn’t realised he was crying until he felt Jaskier pull him into a gentle embrace.

“Sssh… it’s okay… it’s okay… I’m here.”

Hearing those words only made Geralt cry harder, but it also spurred him into action, and he grabbed Jaskier’s body, hugging him back fiercely.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He murmured a thousand apologies over and over… Promising to never keep secrets from Jaskier again and repeating that he wasn’t cheating on him – again and again. Until he calmed down and his tears had stopped.

* * *

“Geralt,” Jaskier asked in a gentle, neutral voice. “Can we talk now?”

“Yes.” Geralt rasped, voice scratchy from crying. _Now is as good a time as any,_ he thought.

“Why did you keep it a secret from me?” Jaskier said, repeating his earlier question.

Geralt was resolutely not looking at his boyfriend as he answered:

“Because I am ashamed of it. I’ve never told anyone. I was sure…” He had to stop for a second because his throat had closed, be he forced himself to continue. “I was sure you’d leave me if you found out. So I resolved to keep it a secret.”

To his surprise, Jaskier was gawking at him.

“What the hell _, Geralt?!!_ How can you be so _fucking stupid???”_

Geralt was prepared for many reactions, but this was not among them. He frowned.

“Fuck, shit!!” Jaskier cursed, looking bewildered and… relieved? “Well, I’m still cross with you, but… okay, I – I believe you. On one condition.”

Geralt nodded, accepting. “Anything – “

“I want to see you in one of your sets - tonight.”

Geralt felt icy trepidation run through him at Jaskier’s words. He hadn’t been prepared for that… He would have done anything else gladly – but this…

It was one thing to dress up in the privacy of his own bedroom when the apartment was empty, behind closed doors – where no one could see him… It was altogether different to imagine doing so _in front of_ Jaskier... whose opinion mattered and who meant _so-so much_ to him…

Geralt wasn’t an exhibitionist – he hated the feeling of being watched. It felt like judgement and scrutiny…

Belatedly, he realised that Jaskier was still talking.

“It would put my mind at ease to know that they truly fit you. Because I’m not gonna lie, I do feel hurt that you’ve lied to me about the first pair belonging to Yen… and I had to find it out from her!”

Geralt nodded. Yes, he could do this. Jaskier _deserved_ to know the truth… even if he would be disgusted, even if he left Geralt in the end – at least he could do so knowing that he hadn’t been cheated on. Jaskier deserved that much.

“Okay,” Geralt said gruffly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this, the final chapter (the fix-it!!) is to come very-very soon! Probably within a day! :)


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours and a proper dinner later, Geralt was taking a shower, getting ready to don one of his lingerie sets in front of an audience for the first time _ever._

Jaskier had been very encouraging about the whole thing all evening: assuring him over and over again that it would be okay, and that he just wanted to see it... That it would be okay if he wanted to take it off afterwards, if he preferred Jaskier not to see him _like that..._

And that was where it got complicated for Geralt because it wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ Jaskier to see him wearing frilly lacy lingerie…

It was just that he was afraid of how Jaskier would react. What if Jaskier laughed, or what if he thought the garbs didn’t suit him? A reaction like that would absolutely devastate him, he knew it…

It’s not that he expected Jaskier to be cruel or overtly mocking – no, Geralt knew Jaskier wasn’t like that. He was very open-minded and kind and tolerant… But still, he was worried that Jaskier may have an – involuntary - negative reaction…

Because Jaskier liked Geralt’s masculine figure and his muscles (he was _very_ vocal about that!) and he liked Geralt being strong and taking charge… -- None of which was true of _this side_ of himself. This was his favourite reprieve, his alter-ego… his safe place… When Geralt was wearing lingerie, he didn’t feel the need to perform, to try and meet unattainable ideals of masculinity… (which he failed at, anyway…)

He felt… good enough.

But would he be good enough for Jaskier?

He would have preferred never to find out, but there was no way out now. He had lied to Jaskier, so he _had to_ make it right by giving him clear, undeniable proof that he _was_ telling the truth this time around… The whole, unaltered truth and nothing else.

He shaved himself as he usually did before wearing one of his pieces. Shaving his legs, his armpits, his chest and his bikini line (thankfully, he had light coloured body hair naturally, so he didn’t have to be too neat about it).

Once that was all done, it was time to put on the set. He chose one of his less “revealing” sets, because he thought he would feel more comfortable wearing those in front of his boyfriend... Less things to be insecure about. He didn’t feel confident enough to rock a _thong_ in front of Jaskier – God forbid!

But as he was looking at the selected set, he still felt doubt creeping into his head.

It was one of his favourites: a beautiful [furry, pink](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3f/7a/ca/3f7aca16449fb566f07f78938a726744.jpg) [babydoll](https://di2ponv0v5otw.cloudfront.net/posts/2018/05/09/5af364158290af5e5704f454/m_5af3641dfcdc317962208507.jpg), worn over a simple [satin lingerie and suspender belt](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0016/2519/4590/products/louisa_pink_3_pc_set_ae1afec6-c4ac-4339-b0ac-620d77d82b4f_700x.jpg?v=1569867944), completed with sheer nude thigh-high [stockings](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0016/2519/4590/products/pink_louisa_garter_700x.jpg?v=1569867885).

The babydoll was his favourite part of the outfit, because the fur on it was so _incredibly_ soft… so fluffy and luscious! Geralt loved the way it accentuated his chest; it almost gave the illusion of curves where there weren’t any in reality.

And the lingerie set was lovely too – it was made of a fine satin material which was comfortable on his skin. The suspender belt sat beautifully on his waist, accentuating it perfectly. He especially loved the panties: his cock and balls were concealed by the opaque satin material at the front, yet his butt was clearly visible through the sheer tulle material of the back… He thought his ass looked great in it.

Geralt bit his lip. He just _wished_ that the set wasn’t baby pink!

But well... He couldn’t help it that his tastes were weird like that when it came to lingerie. He owned nothing that was a conventional colour like red or black. All of his sets were pastel colours, most of them a soft hue of pink, light blue or lilac. He just liked the way they looked. He would have never worn a T-shirt in any of these colours – no! His day-wear clothes were pretty much all black, but the women’s lingerie… this was the one place where he had allowed himself to indulge his “weird side”…

He sighed.

“It will have to do.” He told his reflection brusquely as he smoothed his palms over the outfit again, trying to calm himself by playing with the fur trimmings on the bottom edge of the babydoll. It was soft and lovely…

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this…” He murmured quietly, wondering hysterically if he _meant_ that or if he was just trying to convince himself here!?

He yanked the bathroom door open.

* * *

Predictably, nothing happened. Jaskier was waiting for him in the bedroom as they’d agreed. Of course, since Jaskier was a considerate boyfriend (unlike himself) - he wasn’t peeping on him, he wasn’t standing on the corridor or in the hall or anything weird like that…

Geralt took a final deep breath, adjusting the top of one of his stockings before he finally steeled himself and pushed down the door handle.

He stepped into the room without looking up or saying anything. Belatedly he realised that he hadn’t thought this far ahead: he hadn’t planned what he would do once he was in the bedroom _with_ Jaskier…

A cursory glance towards the bed told him that Jaskier was indeed sitting on the bed and he was definitely looking at Geralt. He didn’t look at his face, because he did not want to see his reaction.

There was silence. Geralt felt himself blushing and he grabbed onto the furry trimmings of his babydoll, scrunching up the fabric, holding it out self-consciously… As if it wasn’t see-through. As if it could cover him or protect him from another’s prying eyes…

Infuriatingly, Jaskier still wasn’t saying anything. What was he expecting? For Geralt to give him a show? To do a striptease or a lap-dance perhaps? He supposed those would have been reasonable demands, because only strippers and whores wore outfits like these out in the real world… But Geralt hated dancing and he wasn’t good at acting sultry. He wore these lingerie sets for his own pleasure, because he liked the way he felt in them. Not because he wanted to seduce or impress anybody.

Finally, he couldn’t take the suspense anymore and he snapped:

“Are you satisfied now? Can I go take it off, please?” Geralt asked, still not looking at Jaskier.

To his surprise, Jaskier replied and he sounded strangely breathless:

“Geralt, you are _– beautiful!_ ”

His eyes flitted towards Jaskier then, for the first time. It wasn’t so much his words, but the utter conviction and sincerity behind them that made him change his mind about looking at Jaskier’s face…

He felt a pang in his chest when he saw that Jaskier was indeed looking at him, looking him over head to toe, and what’s more he was coming up to him, looking slightly unsure as he extended a careful hand towards him.

“May I?” Jaskier asked, simply, politely.

Geralt had no idea what he was referring to, but he nodded anyway.

As it turned out, Jaskier was asking permission to touch him – specifically to touch the fur on the top portion of the babydoll right over his nipples. He stroked over it, carefully, reverently, taking care not to damage the delicate fur. And then Jaskier was pulling one of the cups to the side ever-so-gently and he saw that Geralt was wearing the satin bra underneath (obviously, it wouldn’t have been proper otherwise)… And he gave a decidedly pleased _noise_.

Geralt felt his cock give an interested twitch in his panties.

Jaskier looked up at him, licking his lips.

“May I – may I touch you? Can we--?” He asked, motioning over to the bed.

Geralt felt himself hesitate.

“You… you don’t _… hate it?_ ” He asked in a voice that was too small for his own liking, shoulders tensing defensively.

Jaskier let out a huge breath.

“God no! Why would I?”

That was way too complicated to answer and he didn’t want to think about all that stuff, so Geralt shrugged.

“I thought you might…”

Jaskier grabbed him by his waist, smoothing his hands over the outline of the suspender belt – which felt lovely pressing over his skin…

“Well – I don’t,” Jaskier said simply, decisively. “And I would very much like to be with you while you’re wearing this, if you’ll allow me… It doesn’t have to be sexual – unless you want it to be…”

Geralt nodded, feeling a bit light-headed. “I do…”

“Oh, _fuck…_ ” Jaskier mumbled – that was always a good sign when Jaskier lost the ability to run his mouth, Geralt thought and he felt himself relax a little bit – seeing that apparently, Jaskier wasn’t unaffected by this situation either… it made him feel less alone.

“Mmh, I don’t know how…” Geralt murmured, but Jaskier silenced him with pressing a gentle finger against his mouth.

“We’ll figure it out… let’s get on the bed first.”

Geralt felt glad that Jaskier was taking charge, because he felt quite lost. He could still barely process the fact that his boyfriend didn’t find him ugly in his outfit and -what’s more – that he wanted to have sex with Geralt… while he was wearing it… it was utterly mind-blowing to him…

Jaskier helped Geralt arrange himself on the bed, so that he was lying on his back, his head and neck propped up by his pillows… and Jaskier was laying on his side, next to him…

“Ohh fuck, Geralt…” Jaskier said again, and this time Geralt didn’t resist the urge to look at his boyfriend as what he saw surprised him – Jaskier was clearly aroused; that much was apparent by the flush spreading on his pale cheeks and the darkening of his eyes and a glance downwards confirmed that he was palming himself through his jeans… _Fuck – this couldn’t be faked…_ Jaskier wasn’t faking – he was truly turned on…

Geralt felt his own cock begin to fill out and harden in his panties as he processed this new information.

Jaskier was still looking at him darkly, through heavy-lidded eyes; and he chose that moment to stroke his hands through Geralt’s freshly washed and dried hair… it was silky and neatly combed, just how he knew Jaskier liked it… he pulled his fingers through from top to bottom along one of the strands, seeming to like the way the pink fur contrasted with Geralt’s blonde hair where the two met…

“Fuck. You… you look incredible. I had no idea – no idea that you could like something like this…”

Geralt couldn’t help it – he flinched a little bit… Of course Jaskier wouldn’t have guessed it, because it wasn’t supposed to be so – if only he hadn’t been _abnormal_ –

“What’s wrong?” Jaskier asked gently, concern clear in his voice. “Geralt, talk to me, please…”

“I hate it,” Geralt said, cautiously.

Jaskier looked surprised – a bit affronted.

“You hate it that… I hadn’t guessed right?”

Geralt sighed in irritation.

“No! I mean, I hate that I – that I _like it_ …” He said, biting his lips. “I’m not supposed to like…. Dressing like… like this – like a woman, in… in girly things… I’m… I am a _freak ---_ ”

“Don’t you ever say that, Geralt!” Jaskier interjected suddenly. “That’s – that’s not true! You are beautiful… what’s wrong with wearing what you like, if – if it makes you happy?”

It sounded so simple, so logical when his boyfriend said it like that.

But still…

“But I’m not a girl…” Geralt murmured, looking away bashfully.

“Would you- like to be one?” Jaskier asked slowly, in a gentle voice.

Geralt shook his head without hesitation.

“No – I _know_ I’m not a woman. I feel – I am a man… I like being a man, most of the time… but I like to wear these too…” He said, hoping that Jaskier would understand what he meant, although it was hard to put into words.

Jaskier smiled. “Well, I like you as a man, very much. And you are no less of a man if you wear women’s clothes, than if you wear man’s clothes… Because you are still you.”

“Hmm.” He couldn’t suppress a small, sad smile. Jaskier was so nice, but he just wasn’t _getting it._ “But a man wearing women’s clothes… it’s ridiculous…”

As soon as he’d said that, Geralt regretted it because Jaskier’s face turned sad. He wondered if he’d said something wrong…

“I’m sorry if I offended you—” He said cautiously, but to his surprise, Jaskier brushed him off.

“No – God, Geralt no! You didn’t say anything wrong, it’s just… I feel really sad that you think that… that somebody made you think that – that it’s not okay to be anything but purely masculine or purely feminine…”

Geralt shrugged.

“I grew up in the 80’s. That’s the way it was.”

“Well I grew up in the 90s and the 2000’s and I’m telling you,” He said, sounding convinced and sincere. “It doesn’t _have to_ be that way!”

Geralt frowned.

“But it is ridiculous…” He said, softly – because he didn’t want to be disrespectful towards Jaskier, he just didn’t understand what his boyfriend was getting at…

Jaskier suddenly leant in and kissed him, palming his cheek softly.

“Well, let me ask you this,” He said. “When you wear the lingerie… you do it here, alone – correct?”

Geralt nodded.

“What does it make you feel like?”

Oh, fuck that was… a hard question to answer… But Jaskier waited patiently, so Geralt had no choice but to give some sort of reply.

“It’s… nice,” He said finally. “I like the way it makes me feel, and how it looks…”

Jaskier almost purred at those words, as he leant closer, kissing Geralt’s neck exactly how he liked it.

“Mmmh… What does it feel like?”

The sneaky bastard wouldn’t stop kissing him, all over his neck and chest… and then he had the nerve to look up and say “I’m waiting!”…

“Fuck – good!” Geralt grunted.

“Mmm, just good?” Jaskier asked teasingly.

“Mmh… I like the… the way the materials feel – silky and soft…”

Jaskier closed his eyes and shuddered. “And I bet you like how you look in them too?”

“Sometimes,” Geralt admitted, quietly.

Jaskier frowned. “Well, you should, because you look great! Have you seen yourself?”

“But… wouldn’t it look better on a woman?” Geralt said. To his relief, Jaskier didn’t look sad this time, he just laughed, as if Geralt had said something particularly silly. He took one of his hands, holding it and stroking it gently.

“Oh, Geralt! Yes – and no. Yes, this lingerie would look _different_ on a woman, or somebody else… but better? No, it wouldn’t look _better_ … Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Jaskier said, kissing the top of Geralt’s hand softly. “And I find you _very_ beautiful. Especially when you can see how beautiful you are…”

That all sounded too good to be true, but Geralt enjoyed the way Jaskier was murmuring sweet nothings and kissing his hands, so he didn’t protest… Perhaps it was okay to allow himself to enjoy this…

It was as if Jaskier could sense his hesitation, because then he was sitting up, looking determined.

“Could we… take your top off?” Jaskier asked, pointing at the babydoll gently. “I would like to see what’s underneath better.”

Geralt hadn’t expected it that Jaskier may want to have a closer look, but he indulged him, pulling the garment off over his head easily. That left him in just his bra, panties, suspender belt and the stockings.

Suddenly, Jaskier gasped in amazement. “You had shaved! Of course!” He said, sounding excited at the discovery. “You weren’t shaving because it’s a requirement for judo at all, were you?”

“Hmm, no, I made that up…” He said, feeling himself flush in embarrassment.

But he didn’t have a long time to think about that because then Jaskier was cupping his hands ever-so-gently over his satin bra – palming one of his pecs, and then the other one…

Geralt hissed.

“Am I hurting you?” Jaskier asked, immediately retreating.

“No!” Geralt corrected him quickly. “It was – nice.”

Jaskier smiled, relaxing visibly.

“Hmm-hmm – I bet! You have exceptionally sensitive nipples afterall…”

And then Jaskier’s hand was back, palming and massaging his chest and his nipples gently, thoroughly. He kept alternating the pressure from teasing and “barely-there” all the way to strong, delicious pressure…

He was kissing Geralt’s neck’s as well and Geralt was lost in a haze of pleasure and arousal. He was palming Jaskier’s hair, grabbing fistful’s of it, and mouthing along Jaskier’s sensitive jawline and his earlobes, just the way he knew his boyfriend liked it and he was rewarded with breathless moans… It was easy to forget that the lingerie was even there…

But then Jaskier was pulling back.

“Get on your hands and knees!” He barked. “I’d like to see you…” He added, softly, sweetly when he saw Geralt’s hesitation.

He complied.

“Fuck, Geralt!”

Geralt felt himself shudder at the obvious praise behind Jaskier’s murmurs of appreciation… He sounded… like when he was praising Geralt’s muscular chests… or when he did something spectacular at the gym…

“God, I love your butt in this!” Jaskier said, giving a slight slap on one of his butt-cheeks for emphasis. “It looks so beautiful and round…” He leant down lower, smoothing his hands over Geralt’s cock over the material of the panties and Geralt hissed. “Fuck, I can see your balls from the back… it’s gorgeous, mmh…”

Jaskier groaned. “God, I wish I could just pull your panties to the side and fuck you with them on! But I don’t want to destroy them… and I don’t think it would be comfortable for you either…”

Geralt considered it for a moment…

“It wouldn’t work… But I have a lot of thongs- We could try doing that when I’m wearing one of those – next time--?” It was on the tip of his tongue to say “ _if there’ll be a next time”…_

“Fuck, you have _thongs_ , Geralt?” Jaskier asked, sounding wrecked. “Why aren’t you wearing one?” Geralt didn’t know how to answer, but thankfully, he didn’t have to because Jaskier rambled on. “Nevermind, I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen: you will take these panties off so I can finger you open and fuck you… And next time, we will experiment with your thongs – and I won’t rest until I’ve fucked you in _all_ of your thongs! I’m going to christen them all… Get them covered in your come and my come until you are messy and dripping like a two-penny whore… How does that sound, sweetheart? Would you like that?”

“ _Fuck…_ ” Geralt muttered, feeling overwhelmed by the mutual assault of Jaskier’s fingers rubbing over his crotch through his panties – he would definitely need to wash them now, he could tell he was leaking precum all over them – and the auditory stimulus of Jaskier’s dirty, filthy mouth…

“I hope that’s a ‘yes’!” Jaskier quipped, as he gave Geralt’s butt another slap. “Now get your panties _off!”_

Geralt didn’t need to be told twice. He hastened to undo unclip the straps connecting his stockings to the suspender belt, and then he was peeling the panties off, taking them off carefully… He was about to start re-fastening his stockings, when Jaskier stopped him by pulling him gently up and off of the bed.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to do that here, in front of the mirror?”

He was right, actually, but he had never done this in front of an audience. Geralt could feel himself getting flustered.

“Would you like any help with that?” Jaskier asked, seemingly oblivious of Geralt’s predicament.

“Yes!” He replied without hesitation.

“Umm, okay…” Jaskier said, grabbing one of the clasps. “Oh crap, how the hell do you manage to get these fastened?”

Geralt smirked. “Lots of practice.”

Didn’t he know! It used to take him absolute ages to get just one of those suckers fastened… but he was much better at it now… and okay, maybe he was a bit proud of that…

Geralt was startled out of his amused thoughts when he heard a yelp and he saw Jaskier clutching both of his hands to his face.

“Ouch-ouch-oww-oww…”

“Are you okay?” Geralt asked.

“Yeah, just… fuck, I didn’t realise these straps were elastic, I pulled on it too hard and it hit me in the eye!”

“’In the eye’?” Geralt repeated in disbelief.

“Yes, in my eye – are you smiling, Geralt? Because if you are, so help me---”

Geralt was grinning by then.

“Thank you for the help, but I think I’m okay” Geralt said, trying to stifle his chuckles. “I can finish it off ---”

“Damn right you will!” Jaskier muttered as he went over to the bed, still fussing over his eye. Thankfully, the clasps weren’t sharp at all, so Geralt wasn’t overly worried about it. Jaskier was a drama queen at the best of times…

It took Geralt a minute, but then he was done, and he realised that he was still standing there, in front of the mirror, in prime view – but surprisingly, it didn’t bother him as much now. He checked that he had fastened all of the straps correctly, and while he was at it, he checked himself over in the mirror – he loved the way the suspender belt’s straps were draped over his buttocks and thighs, how they made them look more feminine, almost… sexy.

He walked back over to the bed feeling more confident than he had felt all night so far as he glanced up at Jaskier apologetically.

“I’m sorry… are you okay?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Yeah, of course! The only thing that had suffered lasting damage is my pride…”

Geralt smiled. “Well, we can’t have that… I remember you that you’d finger me open if I managed to get my… _panties_ off…” It felt so dirty to say that word out loud – to acknowledge what he was wearing… but at the same time, Geralt could feel a spark of electricity run through him; an excitement about breaking this taboo… of defying it…

“Mmh, I did, didn’t it?” Jaskier said, smiling back at him in return. “Well, hands and knees it is then…”

Jaskier was always skilful about this: about opening Geralt up, preparing him to take his cock. Jaskier wasn’t the first person to have him this way, by far – but he was the first person that helped Geralt discover how much he _loved_ it.

Because Jaskier was attentive and responsive and careful. He knew where Geralt’s favourite places were, knew his pet peeves and navigated all of them beautifully.

Geralt sighed as he felt the careful press of a single finger pushing into him. It wasn’t even all the way in yet, but this was always the intense part: that first shock of penetration.

“You good?” Jaskier asked, stroking over his lover’s back carefully.

Geralt nodded, shifting his hips a tiny bit to try and impale himself further, to take that finger deeper… but Jaskier wouldn’t let him.

“Oh no! Just enjoy the ride,” He said, winking saucily.

“Fuck.” Geralt groaned as he felt Jaskier’s finger press deeper, just when he was least expecting it. He began to stroke his cock with one of his hands, caressing himself to the rhythm of Jaskier’s careful ministrations.

“Do you need more? Or would you rather have my cock.” Jaskier asked.

“Your cock,” Geralt ground out, pushing himself back on Jaskier’s finger.

“Impatient,” Jaskier retorted, but his breathlessness betrayed just how turned on he was by Geralt’s ‘impatience’.

Geralt waited patiently as Jaskier grabbed a condom and rolled it onto his own cock, adding more lubricant – and then he was lining himself up, and Geralt felt that excitement, the anticipation…

“I’ll go slow,” Jaskier said – ever careful. Even though Geralt loved being taken roughly, with barely any preparation, Jaskier was always careful, making sure he wouldn’t get hurt inadvertently in the process.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Geralt cursed in pleasure when he finally felt Jaskier’s cock – the familiar, soothing feeling of being impaled, millimetre by millimetre under Jaskier’s careful watch.

“Fuck, Geralt, you are so tight… I love the way the you look in this belt and with your bra and your fucking stockings…” Jaskier mumbled breathlessly, caressing Geralt’s thighs where the band of his stockings where pressing into his skin, massaging them through the silky material. “You look a million dollars... So beautiful, so amazing… I can’t believe you’re all mine, I’m the luckiest man… OH FUCK!”

Jaskier cursed because Geralt chose that moment to shove himself back at him, taking his cock to the root. With practiced ease, Geralt then proceeded to knock Jaskier off balance, pushing him onto his back, so Jaskier was lying flat on his back and Geralt straddling him in reverse cowgirl position.

“Fuck me!” Geralt said – well commanded, really -, through gritted teeth as he felt intense pleasure flood him at being filled so quickly and thoroughly…

Oh, this was a very-very good position… He thought as he began to fuck himself back onto Jaskier’s cock.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long!” Jaskier warned, grabbing Geralt’s hips and beginning to thrust up into him in earnest now.

Geralt could feel his orgasm building and he stroked himself off, reaching his peak just moments before Jaskier did, riding out his own orgasm with a few more forceful shoves that sent shivers down Geralt’s spine, heightening his pleasure further….

Geralt peeled himself off of Jaskier, collapsing next to him bonelessly. Jaskier pulled himself closer until his head was rest on Geralt’s chest – on his bra, to be precise – into their favourite cuddling position.

“That was… wow.” Jaskier said.

Geralt hummed.

Jaskier sighed wistfully.

“Fuck, I didn’t even get to play with your stockings! They look so good on your perfect legs… I just wanna play with them for an hour next time… fair warning.”

Jaskier sounded so blissed out, that Geralt couldn’t help but huff in amusement.

“Warning accepted.” He felt his throat tighten up as he remembered the beginning of their evening – his fears that Jaskier wouldn’t find him attractive, that he would be disgusted… and he felt immense relief – but also guilt – flood him. He hugged Jaskier tighter. “Jaskier, I’m… I’m really sorry about – not telling you about my fetish sooner. I was an idiot…”

To his surprise, Jaskier stopped him.

“Sssh, I’ve already accepted your apology. It’s okay. Really.”

They laid there peacefully for a few more minutes before Jaskier began to chortle all of a sudden.

“Oh fuck! I- I just remembered – we owe a lengthy explanation to Coën. And Yennefer. And Eskel and Lambert too actually…”

“What?” Geralt asked, head snapping up in agitation. Jaskier averted his gaze.

“Well! Umm – I may have told a few people that I found those satin panties in the laundry --- I was upset and very emotional, okay??”

Geralt sighed – crap, that wouldn’t be easy to explain away… Shit, he’d need to admit it, there was no other way out of this… He didn’t plan on coming out regarding his fetish - hopefully, his friends would be mature about it…

Then he remembered that he was friends with _Lambert_ and that hope went out the window…

“So – umm, you can forgive me for this – and in exchange I’ll forgive you for lying about the panties belonging to Yen -- and we are even?” Jaskier asked in his best high-pitched sweet-talking voice.

“We are _not_ even.” Geralt grunted.

“Yup, okay!” Jaskier quipped. “I’ll make you and Ciri lasagne this weekend.”

Geralt scoffed, and gave Jaskier a kiss on the top of his head.

* * *

A few weeks later, Geralt received an Amazon package. He couldn't remember placing any orders recently, but the package was clearly addressed to him, so he brought it upstairs and opened it. The first thing he saw was a brief note, that said:

> To My Beautiful Princess, to Help Him Feel Even Prettier
> 
> from his Adoring Boyfriend! ♡♡♡
> 
> P.s. Please, please, please - wear this tonight? ;)   
>   
> \- Jaskier 

Geralt frowned, but he dug deeper into the package, throwing the paper confetti aside, and his eyes widened as he saw the [very-very furry dressing gown](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b9/d2/d5/b9d2d55878451f12fef59c0dfddc549c.jpg) that had been inside... 

"Oh, God... this is too much," He groaned as he looked at the monstrosity.

He guessed he still owed Jaskier the courtesy of trying it on though, nonetheless... 

He didn't feel like putting on lingerie, so he just undressed himself until he was completely nude and then threw on the gown carelessly, tying the belt in the front to fasten it. 

And fuck - okay. Maybe he liked it. Jaskier had good taste.

He couldn't help but smile as he adored himself in the mirror - he couldn't wait to see Jaskier's reaction when he got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this fic, I hope you've enjoyed it! :) I hope you like the lingerie images I picked for inspiration - my personal favourite is the very-very furry dressing gown, omg I adore that, lol!!!! :D Let me know what was your favourite!!
> 
> Comments and kudos will be appreciated and adored to bits! 💜


	4. FanArt! [Geralt in lingerie]  [NSFW]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artwork courtesy of Taiyou Rae: a dreamy drawing of Geralt lounging in a sexy pink lingerie set! 🥰   
> Many thanks to her for drawing and sharing! ❤️
> 
> You can also view this work (and many other beautiful and scorching HOT drawings) on her Twitter handle here:   
> https://twitter.com/TaiyouRae/status/1260623415196565504


End file.
